Life is a Journey
by moonlitelm
Summary: In the end, though, it wasn't what I did that mattered. It was what happened at the very end of that chapter.
1. Prologue

_**Life is a Journey**_

They say it's not the outcome that matters, it's the journey. I happen to firmly believe that it's true. I've made mistakes in life, done stupid things, but they've all been _important_ things - to me, at the very least. In the end, though, it wasn't what I did that mattered. It was what happened at the very end of that chapter.

When I look back on life, I view it as a book. It's not as cut-and-dry as _beginning, middle _and _end. _There are chapters, there are parts. As a kid, growing up...that was Part One of my life. It ended when I left home, and went to college. Part Two started where I am now - alone in NYC, studying psychology, rather than law.

I don't know how many parts my life will have. Right now, I'm in the second phase, the being me phase. I do know that eventually, I'll move onto Part Three and everything will be different again. And maybe right now I'm not happy with Part Two, but that's my own fault, and we all have to live with our mistakes. I now firmly believe everything happens for a reason, and right now, that faith is all I have.

I'll always miss Part One, and I'll always miss him, but I have to hold onto the thought that I've made the right decisions for _me._ In the end, I'm the one that has to live with myself. Life is a journey, a story, with new pages and paths always unfolding. But there are two sides to every story, more than just my own life that I'm dictating.

Life is a journey, and right now, I'm doing it alone.

_"Kyle?" He had lost the accent as he had grown, my name no longer the whining, keening, Kaaaahl, it had been in our youth. I suppose I can't even say that, we're both still young. Youth is a term that my grandparents should use, not a nineteen year old boy._

_God, I feel old sometimes. It's hard to think of all the shit I went through as a little kid, and how absolutely normal my life feels now. _

_And normal people do normal things, like go off to college, and leave everyone behind._

_I straightened my spine, worried my lower lip between my teeth. It was a nervous habit I had picked up from my dad, watching him working away in his study. "You know I love you, right?" The question came out meek, which wasn't what I had wanted. I wanted to be strong. _

_"Kyle?" He asked again. He could always tell when something was bothering me, even when we were in the 'hate' stage of our relationship. He shifted forward, towards me, and I took a step back. The hurt in his eyes, hurt me in my chest - near my heart. It took me a moment, but I strengthened my resolve. _

_I stopped biting my lip, and that was when we both knew I was absolutely, one hundred precent certain. "I'm breaking up with you."_

_He said nothing, choosing to instead stare at me. His eyes weren't hurt anymore, his face a carefully blank slate. He thought it kept the world out, but it only proved to me how much damage my words were actually doing._

_"I got accepted to one of the schools I applied for - in New York. I'm moving, and..." I shrugged, feeling a little helpless. Almost lost. "I'm breaking up with you."_

_Instead of getting angry, he told me, "I could move too."_

_It was me that was silent then, carefully trying to guard my own expression. "Maybe I don't want you to move." _

_Realization dawned in his eyes. He took a step back, and it was then that we both knew. He would let me go. He wasn't going to fight me on this, no matter how much we both wanted him to. _

_I remember thinking in the back of my head, "Is this love? Letting someone go, so easily. Is this love?"_

_It took all of my will power, and a tense phone call to Kenny for me to not look back. Never look back. Never. _

_I didn't. Not even when I got onto the plane. I never looked back._

Part One is over, and I'm onto Part Two, but there are some things, some people, you can just never forget. He was one of them. I was always certain our paths would cross again.

I don't know whether to hate or love the fact that I'm always, always right.


	2. Chapter One

_**Life is a Journey**_

_**Chapter One**_

"Get up man, we're already late." The voice was deepened with sleep, gruff and edgy. The owner cleared his throat a few times, trying to get rid of that early morning dryness.

I just groaned and rolled over onto my stomach. I pulled my thick comforter back up over my head, very much content to ignore the world. It was just one of _those_ days. The one's where staying in bed and never moving ever again seemed like a fanfreakingtastic idea. I must have been mumbling out loud, because a pillow collided with my head.

"Come on bro, you have an exam in like...half an hour ago."

"In half an hour ago? Joe, that doesn't even make...sense..._fuck_." I growled, rolling out of bed and landing on my face - stupid legs and stupid getting tangle up in the _stupid fucking sheets_. Strong hands grasped around my biceps, dragging me up and out of my humansheet pile on the floor.

"Chill, you still have fourty five minutes." My roommate of two years, Joe, had a vague little smirk on his face. _Probably still thinking about that bitch._ I told myself, shaking his arms off and backing away.

"Way to nearly give me a heart attack, dickwad." I hissed at him, already on my way to our little bathroom. He followed after so he could lean up against the door, watching me.

For a straight guy, dude could be pretty gay sometimes.

I dropped my shirt to the ground, toothbrush already in my mouth. Meticulously, I scrubbed my hands. Joe was still watching, and he was usually gone by now. I gave him a flat look, eyebrow arching up to ask 'what the fuck do you want?'

"You were talkin' in your sleep last night." He drawled. He had a faint accent, one that wasn't even really noticeable unless you intereacted with him on a daily basis. "Talkin' a lot, actually." He was tilting his head forward, watching me from beneath his bangs.

"Yeah? What about? I think I had a dream about Becca." I spat in the sink and tossed him an amused grin, rinsing out my mouth. Becca was his girlfriend, and it always aggitated him when someone else talking about her. I grinned wider when his brow furrowed and he glared at me. His feathers were so easy to ruffle.

"Nah man. Whose Eric?"

My grin slipped away and my veins filled with ice. I felt like my heart was stopping, even as it hammered so fast I thought it would burst from my chest. "I dunno." The lie slipped off my lips without hesitation.

"No? 'Cause you seemed pretty beat up about it." A thumb pressed into the corner of my eye, a concerned look on my friends face. "You were cryin' you know?"

"No, I don't know. I was asleep, and I have no idea what you're talking about. I don't know any Eric, and I'm not a fucking pussy. I don't cry in my sleep, jackass." I shoved by him, shouldering my way back into the bedroom. Clothes were tossed on carelessly, as I tried packing my bag up as quick as possible.

"Your shirts on backwards. And inside out." Joe tugged lightly at my tag. "You don't have to tell me man, but shit. You think I'm not gonna mention it, when I wake up to my roommate sleep-sobbin' into his pillow?" He stepped back so I could fix my shirt, but didn't leave despite the fact _he_ was already an hour late for _his_ classes.

"Look. It's not even important anymore, all right? It was just some dude I knew a few years back. I'd more or less forgotten about him." It really had been two years...I shook my head to clear those thoughts, patting Joe comfortingly on the arm. "Can't help what we dream right?" I slung my bag over my shoulder, tugging my shoes on. "I'll catch you later."

"We can't help it, but the subconcious is a powerful thing, Ky." Joe called after me. I chose to ignore him and run the rest of the way to class.

_The first day of school - I'd been away from home for three weeks, setting up my small apartment. It was a one bedroom, and I wasn't really certain about my roommate. He seemed like an okay guy, but eh...Nothing special. He kind of looked like Stan._

_I tossed those thoughts in a black garbage bag, filled with rocks, and dropped it into the ocean of__** forget this.**__ I didn't expect it to work; I was right not to...it didn't._

_The first day of school - I hadn't used my laptop since I left South Park, too busy trying to get my new University life in order. I had been so busy..._

_When I booted up, I nearly screamed._

_Staring up at me from my laptop was my...well, my laptop background. Eric and I, his arm around my shoulder, mine around his waist. We were grinning, and Stan looked __**sick**__ and Butters was so happy, and Kenny was giving me rabbits ears and, and - Wendy took this one didn't she?_

_I slammed my laptop shut and left the class. That night, I got Joe to put some naked chick as my background, knowing that that would remind me the least of Eric, of friends. What had I left behind? Was it...was it worth it?_

_Of course it was. My education was priceless, in the long wrong._

_It was._

I slipped into the seat beside Wendy, trying to get my mess of hair tied back into a ponytail, and realizing I didn't _have_ a tie on me. I grunted in irritation, flashing her a quick smile when she slid one - purple, of _course_ - onto my desk.

I must have looked pissed, because she mouthed 'whats wrong'.

I sighed through my nose and tilted my head. It took a moment, but eventually I whispered back, 'Eric'.

Her eyes filled with understanding - the kind of understanding that comes from knowing someone your whole life, from growing up together, from...living in the same insanity - and she said, simply, "Stan."

The people around us turned to glare. We were, after all, in an exam.

Eyes burning with the need to tear up, I lowered my head and began to write. Beside me, Wendy did the same.

Was it worth it?


End file.
